


song as old as rhyme

by Medie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever notice how the Queen plans like a fiend, but misses the great big obvious things like those big damn magical smoochies?</p>
            </blockquote>





	song as old as rhyme

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=moonlitpines)[**moonlitpines**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=moonlitpines) (on the occasion of her recent birthday) because, well, ALL THE FIC.

The faeries are with her. Godmothers all. The oldest and most powerful of them. The ones the Queen's curse. and the ones who escaped it all then tried to rescue their sisters and charges, they sing to fill the empty places and to keep their lights burning. They sing to keep Belle from slipping away and she clings to the promise of their voices. The Nurse can't hear them singing for faerie godmothers do as they please (no curse may bewitch or beguile a faerie godmother, for they exist of the old magics which fall under no mortal magic's dominion) and it is Belle's blessing she can't.

They sing the songs of Belle's childhood, the ones her mother had sung before she died, in voices that are gentle and soothing. They pass the hours, then the years, and she almost doesn't notice when those songs become tellings, then foretellings, and the history of Storybrooke and the Queen's curse all in one. Belle listens to them all and lets the strength of their words fuel her days. She walks her tiny cell, combs fingers through her hair, and picks at the food the Nurse brings her until she hears the now-familiar clack of heels in the hall.

When she does, Belle retreats to her corner and curls up into the picture of defeat. She likes to imagine the grin on Rumpelstiltskin's face each time she does. How her little ruse would thrill him and she closes her eyes to remember the sound as the window scrapes open.

The Queen visits infrequently, but does the same thing every time. It's sad, really, to watch her smirk through the slot in the door, flush with the conviction she has won her eternal war with Rumpelstiltskin. Sometimes, Belle looks at her, but mostly she does not. Mostly she closes her eyes and listens to the godmothers and their songs. From them she learns that Rumpelstiltskin survived the curse, that his memory is unharmed, and realizes that is why hers has been protected as well.

There are all sorts of magic. There is the Queen's magic and the magic of the mortal mages that was so easily overwhelmed by her curse, there is the power that infected Rumpelstiltskin's soul, and then there is that of the godmothers. The old and primal magics which transcend everything and create spells born not of word, but pure intent and emotion. Belle has never known any power of her own, hers is the power of words and imagination, and has never worked a spell in her life.

Save one. The single, solitary spell that that bound her to Rumpelstiltskin as securely as any vow she might have spoken before any holy man or any the kingdom. He is hers, claimed and kept, and she is his in the same fashion and when she sleeps, she feels that thread more strongly than ever, feels his presence just beyond her reach.

All curses can be broken and the godmothers sing to remind her of this every night. Belle curls up beneath a thin blanket that will be taken away with the dawn's light and closes her eyes to rest.

Yes, all curses can be broken in time. For all the fire and drive that passion can bring, love itself is a patient thing and it has given Belle all she needs to wait and learn with the passing of the seasons.

Metal scrapes as the tiny window shuts again. The faeries do not sing when the Queen is present. They are concerned not for her ears (even were her magic too young to worry them, in the midst of her own curse she is cut off from most of it) but they will not allow her presence to sully their songs.

Belle hides her face against her knee, lets her hair swing forward to hide the smile, and waits.

She doesn't need the godmothers or their songs to know the Queen has forgotten her own words, perhaps misunderstood them from the beginning.

It wasn't Rumpelstiltskin's curse the kiss was meant to shatter.


End file.
